So a few weeks back my wife and I attended a concert in an arena that seats about 17,000 people. We made our way up the stairs to the cheap seats just fine, and proceeded to sit down. Instantly I remembered why I did not go to a lot of concerts. Stadium and arena seating is awful for fat people. New stadiums try to pack in as many seats as they can, therefore the seats are very narrow with large cup holders. The seating cannot be comfortable for anyone larger than a horse jockey. If you are tall, your knees are going to be imbedded into shoulders of the person in front of you, and if you are fat, oh boy lets just hope you can clear the cup holders.My wife and I both found ourselves at the forefront of the row holding our breath in panic, hope, and worry all at the same time. Taking one big gulp of air, we forced ourselves to take the plunge down the isle, and into the seats that may or may not accept our overly portly bodies. It’s a process to actually maneuver ones fat rolls into the space provided. Picture if you will something like the letter Z. Your rear end starts at the top left of the Z and makes its way down and over as you come in under the left cup holder at an angle. Then immediately you secure your left thigh in position under said cup holder. Then leaning as much as you can still to the left, you drop the rest of yourself down hoping and praying you cleared the right cup holder. Once successful, you may lean a little back to the right shimming your butt back in the seat so that you do not spend the whole concert leaning to the left. The armrests do not move and your legs are now locked in place underneath the cup holder on one or both sides and now your weight is evenly distributed. Great, now your butt is in the seat, but the upper half of your body is most likely too large for the given area (seeing how you probably only paid for one ticket.) Basically this leaves you a couple of options.

Option #1: Sit with arms over chest, with your elbows in and your stomach as a prop to place your arms up.

Option #2: Put one arm on your belly and the other around the person next to you. If you do not know the person next you this may pose an additional problem and you may reconsider going back to Option #1.

If you know the person next to you Option #2 is good for both people involved as it opens up space for both parties. This option can only last as long as the persons arm does not fall asleep.In this scenario I chose option #2 for most of the night as my arm did fall asleep often. The only comfort I had was having my wife next to me to lessen any uncomfortable stranger touching that no one enjoys.Now that you are uncomfortably comfortable in your seat, you now have anxiety rearing its ugly head as you watch people walk up the stairs. You are hoping no one fatter than you has a ticket next to you, or that anyone will need to go down your row which will cause you to have to get back out of the seat you somehow managed to get your butter soaked behind into. Lets just say you hope there are no standing ovations, singing of the national anthem or anything at all that would require you to get out of your seat once your have managed to securely get yourself in place. It’s amazing with how much “extra effort” fat people have to go through, they are not thinner than they are. Regular sized people can simply sit down and stand up, but for fat people it’s like competing in an Olympic event or a Survivor style reality show. People could sell tickets to watch fatties take on “The Seats”. Will they make it in the seat? Can they get up if people need to get by, or are they too fat for the seat and require special seating?

My mother-in-law always says “no matter where you go you can always find someone fatter than you.” If you are having trouble in this area…well…I’m sorry…you’re it. For the rest of you this is quite accurate information even though it came from my mother-in-law and there is no statistical data available to back this statement up. That all being said lets continue to believe this is true.

There we were wedged into the seats provided, sitting uncomfortably comfortable in our allotted space so that we do encroach over the seats around us, when we witnessed ushers approaching fatter fatties that were unable to take on the challenge of “The Seats.” They just didn’t have the fight in them…or damn, they were just really fat. We watched in amazement when an usher said to the fatter fatties “Not to be rude but you’re just not gonna fit” as she made the supersized motion with her arms. My wife and I laughed, joking about the usher getting a giant lubed up shoehorn sprayed with Pam, the butter flavored kind to help them glide into their seat. Of course if this was happening to us we would not be laughing at all, but because it’s someone else we can laugh… it’s fair game!

As we took in a few chuckles while not chocking on our oversized pretzels, we had a good, jolly, belly laugh until we witnessed the usher escort these fatter fatties to another section.. the handicapped section. Here these fatties could sprawl out on padded folding chairs with plenty of room all around them. These seats where also located in the more expensive ticket area closer to the stage. Where is it that one draws a line to say “you are so fat… you’re handicapped”? How uncomfortable does one need to be until they are deemed eligible to be called Fatticapped. We are all for fat people rights, but why should someone get upgraded to a more luxurious seat for just being fat? My wife and I are fat too, but we were made to suffer in silence. After realizing that people were being compensated with better seats just for carrying more tonnage, my wife and I tried to appear as though we were struggling within our confines. Sadly the ushers could see through our ruse. They did not deem us Fatticaped, which usually would be good, unless it means better seats.

We watched as several spectators fatter than us got moved up. There had to have been at least a half a dozen that we witnessed go to the promise land of wider seats and wide open spaces. The kicker here was if the fatty had a non fat friend, they also moved up, as the ushers did not want to leave the fatty all by their lonesome, even though they have their fat to keep them warm. I saw one couple who resembled the number ten who were upgraded. During the concert I saw the large one… we’ll call her #0… sitting like a lump, and her “date” we’ll call him #1 basking in the glory of all his extra space, dancing up a storm, he had room to do back flips and a solo Pasodoble.

I guess I’ll have to gain some weight before my next concert so that I can enjoy a seat in the promised land. Let’s face it, we all know gaining weight is easier than losing it.